


You are all I need

by captainhurricane



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Anal Sex, Bottom Shiro (Voltron), Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, S6 Spoilers, Sappy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-17
Updated: 2018-06-17
Packaged: 2019-05-24 15:06:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,318
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14956931
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/captainhurricane/pseuds/captainhurricane
Summary: The boys get to know each other all over again.





	You are all I need

After months after months in the infinite cold of space, Earth feels… different. All of them had seen countless alien worlds, numerous alien species, had killed, had nearly died - or actually died - and had fought and fought and fought for the right to exist, for the right for others to exist.

 

They have earned this journey back home. 

 

They gather quite the crowd when they finally touch ground on Earth, right on the familiar desert that once housed the Blue Lion. The ground trembles under the feet of the Lions, Black lets out a comforting purr as she lets her Paladins out. 

 

Shiro’s legs feel oddly weak. He inhales deeply, his palm heavy on Keith’s shoulder. 

“Earth air,” Shiro whispers. He smiles.

“Earth air,” Keith whispers back and squeezes his hand. “Let’s go meet our welcoming committee. I still think it was a bad idea to land so close to the Garrison. They have guns.” 

“I’m right here with you, Keith.” 

 

Krolia hangs back, her jaw tight. “I don’t like the look of them, Keith.” She keeps her hand on her holster but doesn’t take her gun out. She waits until the others have come out of their Lions before heading onwards as well.

 

Keith leads the pack, his back straight, Shiro right next to him. 

 

There are soldiers, clearly Garrison soldiers, a frowning Iverson and  - Keith finds it in himself to smile at the sight of Sam Holt. 

“Hello, Sam,” Shiro says, laying his hand on Keith’s back. He’s leaning heavily against Keith. 

“Welcome home, everyone,” Sam Holt says, his eyes glimmering. He doesn’t manage to say anymore before he gets an armful of his daughter. They hug, begin to cry. Sam sniffles. He turns towards Iverson and the other suits. “Please, no need for guns. I know you all need more explanations but - here we have. Wait, is that a Galra - “ 

“She’s our ally,” Pidge murmurs. 

 

Keith shoots a look at his mother, whose eyes have narrowed. He shakes his head. Krolia’s mouth twitches. 

“I am a good Galra,” she says, deadpan. 

Keith sighs. “We… have a lot of explaining to do, I know:”  From Shiro’s white hair to the four aliens with them - Romelle is clutching Allura’s arm, her eyes impossibly wide, Coran is practically vibrating with the need to go exploring - to Keith’s own scar. To the five robotic Lions currently laying behind them, as tall as skyscrapers.

 

“That is the understatement of the century, cadet Kogane, graduate Shirogane,” grumbles Iverson. There is grey on his temples that wasn’t there when Keith was still in the Garrison.

“I wish I could say it was good to see you, Iverson,” Keith huffs. 

“Be nice,” Shiro whispers. “I didn’t expect to ever see Earth again. I think we better head inside. We can explain our side of the story, yes?” Shiro’s voice trembles. Just enough that only Keith hears. Keith takes his hand and squeezes. Shiro squeezes back.

 

The Garrison soldiers share looks. Iverson squints at them but doesn’t comment. Sam Holt squeezes his daughter once more and laughs when they both end up wiping their wet eyes. 

“Where’s Matt?” 

Pidge rolls her eyes. “With the rebels. Not that we have much rebelling to do, no Zarkon you know - he sends his greetings though. He misses you and mom.” She has her helmet under her arm, her hair sticking out in every single direction. 

 

The others make their way onwards, finally beginning to move. 

 

This time Iverson leads the pack towards the waiting vehicles, marching like a man leading executioners and not intergalactic travelers. 

 

“Are you okay?” Keith whispers to Shiro, intertwining their fingers. 

“Surprisingly, yes.” Shiro inhales deep, exhales deep. “Never thought I’d see this place again.” He squeezes Keith’s hand. “I’m so glad you are here with me.” They don’t look at the others: not to Krolia who stares at them with a slight smile, not to Lance who tries to sneak to be close to Allura, not to Hunk who’s tugging nervously on his bandanna. There’s only the desert wind whipping Shiro’s white hair, caressing the face that Keith wants to caress.

 

**

 

The Garrison stands wind-swept and strong. There are more soldiers than Shiro remembers, but he’s not surprised: his memories are hazy, are combo of his own and the clone’s memories and it’s hard to tell which are which. He tries his best to focus on Keith’s grip on his hand, on the chatter of their friends. 

On the fact that they are back on Earth, whoever knows how long. This is Earth, their beginning, their past. 

 

Shiro inhales deeply. He knows he’s gripping Keith’s hand way too tight, but Keith merely rubs his thumb on his hand and murmurs that they are going to be okay. 

 

_ I love you,  _ Shiro thinks. It is his own thought, his own feeling. It is the feeling and thought and memory of his clone, his impostor. 

 

Shiro says nothing of it, merely focuses on the way Keith’s hair curls behind his ears and over his cheeks.  _ We’ll be okay.  _

 

**

 

An entire week is spent talking. And talking even more. The Garrison want to know everything. Poor Sam Holt had come with his blueprints and plans and explained what he could, but he had been dismissed and barely believed. Only now the Garrison knows what’s going on: after all, there are actual aliens in the room.

 

Krolia refuses to be interrogated. “I know you humans are better than this,” is all she says and hovers protectively close to her son. Keith’s space wolf Cosmo curls up by his feet and refuses to move. 

 

Keith refuses to be parted from Shiro. They get interrogated together. They hold hands under the table and tell them what they can. 

 

They go through battles with Zarkon, Shiro’s disappearances and returns, they tell them of Lotor, of Lotor’s prompt probable death and the mess that is waiting in the space. 

 

They tell them of Sendak, possibly heading straight here. 

 

“We are all in grave danger,” Shiro says. “These are not Galra like Krolia or not the same as our Altean friends. Sendak is a ruthless sadist and he views humans as less than dirt.”

“He will destroy us.” Keith’s jaw is tight. Exhaustion aging him further than his twenty years. “Like we have told you for days, we have told you all we can. We have already lost time. We are here to protect the Earth from these invaders and you can’t sit complacent that we can do everything ourselves.” 

 

The Garrison command share looks. Shiro is sympathetic to the fear on their faces. Keith hates it. They need action, not blubbering and red tape. 

 

Once they finally get to leave, with strict orders to return in a day or two, they say their quick goodbyes to the others.

 

*

 

Keith leads his mother to his father’s grave. 

“You go on ahead, kiddo,” Krolia whispers and her head bows. Cosmo yips. He looks from Krolia to Shiro and Keith and then follows them, his tail swaying like a cat’s. 

 

Keith grips Shiro’s hand tight. Shiro kisses his hair. “Let’s go, Keith. Let’s leave her to it. She needs her moment with your dad.” Keith draws in a shaky breath. He reaches to squeeze Krolia’s shoulder before leading Shiro out of the lonely, sandy cemetery. 

 

“I… we visited him before, didn’t we?” Shiro licks his dry lips, squints into the dry air. 

“Yea. I only took you there once. He would have liked you.” The ground crunches under their boots. The wind whips both of their hair, sends sand twirling in little hurricanes far up in the air. Keith blinks rapidly and sighs. 

“Well, I got to meet your mother,” Shiro remarks softly. “I’m glad you found her.” 

“More like Kolivan found her and sent me in her direction,” Keith huffs. “I… I missed you and the others when we were on our mission but I had her. And Cosmo.” Cosmo pushes his warm nose into his hand. 

“I’m glad. Now, let’s see if the old shack is still standing. I’d rather not spend another night in Black, no offense. Her beds are bumpy.” 

“You call them beds?” Keith nudges Shiro’s side. 

Shiro huffs and nuzzles Keith’s hair. “Forgot to say: welcome home, baby.” 

 

There is a lump in Keith’s throat. He tries to swallow hard. Not too long ago, he had been ready to die, had spoken the words that he had held on his tongue for years. For such a long time, Shiro had been dead,stuck in the purple and the black, nothing but a memory of a man who once was.

 

But here they both are, alive, hand in hand. 

 

**

 

As it turns out, the shack is still there. Still in Keith’s name. It’s been abandoned for months - for years to Keith - so there is a thick layer of dust covering everything. The door creaks when Keith pushes it open. 

“Oh wow, it’s dusty.” Shiro coughs and makes his way in as well. 

“Well, nobody’s been here. I wonder if Garrison ever even find out about this place.” Keith coughs and grimaces as he cracks a window open. “Dammit. We need some proper dusting in here.” 

“We could clean.” Shiro lowers his bag. “We can’t very well eat in here without getting something nasty in our lungs.” 

“Oh no. You’re going to sit down. Uh, somewhere once we get this place dusted. And I’m gonna pamper you.”  Keith swipes his hair up into a little bun and offers Shiro a smile. Shiro responds to it and nods. 

“Stubborn,” Shiro whispers softly. 

 

Keith’s cheeks bloom pink. 

 

Shiro still insists on helping out a little, at least with the dusting. Mostly it’s Keith who takes extra blankets out into the sunlit evening and dusts them off, fixes the long-forgotten fan in the corner and plugs up the generator in the backyard so it begins humming again. The lights in the shack flicker back to life. 

 

Shiro takes a seat at the couch, now somewhat clean - except just faded and old - and nibbles on a cracker. 

“Isn’t it enough now, baby? Come on. Come here.” He’s tilted his head, the sun catching on his hair. It’s like the snow that Keith hasn’t seen in months, the glow of quintessence or the sparkle of stars in the astral plane. 

 

Keith lowers his dusty rag and leaves it. He wipes his hands, wipes his face. 

“I’m dirty, though.” He still comes to Shiro, lead by the red string between them, the pulsing need inside both of their chests. 

 

“I don’t care,” Shiro whispers and pulls him to his lap. 

 

Keith wraps his arms around him, tugs Shiro’s face against his neck and closes his eyes. 

“We’re here, Shiro.” 

“We’re here.” Shiro squeezes him  tight. “I wouldn’t be here without you, Keith.” Shiro’s voice trembles. “Allura may have done the magic, but it’s you who brought me back to the light. Me - and him.” He draws a deep breath, withdraws his face just enough to meet Keith’s eyes. Both of their eyes are glistening. “Some part of him still remains, Keith.” Shiro’s arm curls too tightly around Keith’s waist. Shiro nuzzles his jaw, brushes his lips against that scar. “The part that loved you.”

 

Keith’s breath hitches.

 

“Yes, Keith.” Shiro brushes Keith’s cheek. “I heard you. I felt your love for me. I love you too.” Shiro’s thumb rubs the ragged edge of the scar, sending a pleasant little shiver down Keith’s body. 

 

“Shiro,” Keith whispers. He takes Shiro’s hand and places it on his chest. Keith’s heart is racing. He lets their foreheads press together. “I would have gladly - there’s no point in this universe without you.” 

 

Shiro fists his shirt. “I could only watch for so long. Now I never want to let you go. And I never will.” He doesn’t wait for an answer but instead tugs Keith into a kiss. Shiro’s hand slides straight into those long, dark strands and pulls it off the messy bun. 

 

Keith wraps his arms tighter around Shiro’s neck, squeezes him tighter with his thighs. 

 

The kisses they had sneaked aboard Black had been brief, kept low for the sake of Krolia who had politely glanced away every time. So now they take their time, pleasure and relief and love burning in every slide and brush of lips against lips. This is Keith, older, wiser, been through literal time and space to get to this point. This is Shiro, changed, steady, been through death and spirit worlds and finally here, in the arms of his soulmate.

 

Harder, faster their lips press against each other, Keith takes Shiro’s lower lip and sucks, slips his tongue against Shiro’s and swallows Shiro’s shaky gasp. Keith tentatively rocks his hips against Shiro and flinches when Shiro jolts.

“T- too much?” 

Shiro shakes his head. His eyes are closed, he’s panting hard when Keith withdraws from the kiss. Keith keeps his hands on Shiro’s cheeks, warm skin against warm skin. “I can’t believe I’m here, baby.” Shiro opens his eyes. He lets a tear fall. 

 

Keith’s heart stutters in his chest. “We’re home, Takashi.” Keith kisses his mouth, his nose, his forehead. “Can I make you feel good?” He rocks his hips tentatively again. “Not the most romantic of spots, but it’s the only one we got right now.” 

 

Shiro’s slow, soft smile is a rarity, a treasure Keith wants to keep forever. Even if it is the face of the man who also tried to kill him. Keith squeezes his eyes closed, jaw clenched. This is not the clone. This is Shiro. This is his Shiro. 

“Baby?” Shiro kisses his jaw. “You don’t have to if you - “ 

Keith shakes his head fiercely and opens his eyes again. “Sorry. Too deep in my head.”

Shiro kisses him again. “Do we have supplies? Let’s take this slow, baby. I think we both need some time to unwind from our heads.” He rubs Keith’s neck tenderly. “This ratty couch will do just fine.” 

 

Keith blinks moisture out of his eyes and reluctantly climbs out of his beloved’s lap. He strips off his shirt on the way to their bags. His hands tremble as he finds their stash: it had been an adventure to find lube and condoms in space, but they had managed to find something similar. At least that’s what the scrawny alien in that shady corner shop had told them. 

 

With those in hand, Keith returns to Shiro’s lap. 

“Hey,” Shiro whispers, wrapping his arm around Keith again. 

“Hey yourself.” Keith kisses him softly. He unwraps the items and tosses them to the couch. Diving back into the kiss feels like going home, way more than stepping into this shack. Shiro’s mouth opens for him easily, Shiro’s muscles quiver under Keith’s hands when he pulls his shirt off. 

 

“I love you,” Shiro whispers against his lips, fingers tight around Keith’s neck.

“I love you,” Keith whispers back, pulling open belts and zippers, surges into a kiss that turns harder, hotter, wetter. Together they moan, together they begin to pant as they pull out their erections, Shiro’s thick one, Keith’s long one, wrap hands around them and stroke. 

 

Keith tries to wriggle out of his clothes, ends up sprawled on Shiro, face burning red. Shiro supports him, laughs gently. 

“They are too tight, I told you,” Shiro huffs and pulls him back up. Keith kicks his pants off, leaving just the boxers spread on his thighs. They share a kiss and a laugh, Keith gives him a peck on the nose. Pulling off Shiro’s trousers is easier, on the way Keith yanks off his boxers as well.

 

Finally, finally they are both naked, finally Keith can push Shiro down to the couch and climb on top of him, fitting himself between thick thighs. Right where he belongs. 

 

The sun continues to set outside of the open windows, wind continues to whistle in the old shack’s floorboards. Dust dances in the last rays of the day’s sun, throws an orange glow to the lovers on the couch. Keith thrusts inside Shiro, wraps his man in his love, his adoration. Shiro’s powerful thighs quiver, his hand clutched between Keith’s, their fingers intertwined. 

“You are so beautiful,” Shiro whispers, hushed, breath hitching. Sweat has stuck his white strands to his temples, to his forehead. His mouth is red from the kisses, his cheeks beautifully pink. 

“Takashi,” says Keith, leans down to press their foreheads together. He groans, his hips stuttering as he forces himself to still, just revelling in the feeling of being inside, his cock painfully swollen. 

“I’m sorry I did that to you, baby,” Shiro whispers, leans to kiss Keith’s burn scar. “I’m sorry he did.” 

“It wasn’t the fault of either of you.” Keith draws in a deep breath, cracks his eyes open to see fondness, kindness. Love. “I would have gladly taken a hundred more scars if it would have brought him back from the brink, if it would have brought you back to me.” Keith’s own eyes prickle suspiciously. But he lets them. This is Shiro, after all and Shiro is his home. 

“And here I am.” Shiro draws him into yet another kiss. Shiro whimpers when Keith reaches between them to rub his cock. 

“Here you are, with me.” Keith’s tears fall. Shiro’s eyes flutter closed, but his lashes are wet.

“I love you, baby, you feel good in me.” Shiro squeezes his hand tight, wraps a leg around Keith’s waist. “So good.” 

Keith nuzzles his neck, leaves gentle, soft kisses wherever he can. He begins to thrust again, the wonderful slick of the space lube and the gently glowing purple condom bringing every sensation up to the max.  Instead of muting everything, instead Keith feels everything even more - and he’s certain Shiro does too. Shiro’s chest rises and falls rapidly, his heart beating out a thunderous rhythm. To think that this body was grown in a lab. To think that this is not the same body that kissed and caressed Keith before, not the same one that taught Keith all the tricks he needed to know to become a better pilot. 

 

Yet this is Shiro’s body now: without scars they both know, with scars only Keith knows. Keith grunts and scrapes his teeth on Shiro’s shoulder. 

“B-baby,” Shiro groans. Slowly, slowly he fucks himself against Keith, his cock pulsing and leaking, impossibly thick and delicious in Keith’s hand. 

“Come on, big guy, you can come, I want to see your face,” Keith keeps whispering him through it, keeps stroking him through it: groans when Shiro clenches around his cock and finally spills his load between them. 

 

Keith shifts to intertwine their fingers again, uncaring of the mess and begins thrusting a little quicker, eager to reach his own climax. He latches his mouth against Shiro’s shoulder and sucks hard, bites down until Shiro writhes and clenches again. 

“Baby,” Shiro groans, voice gone husky. He pulls Keith off his neck and makes their gazes meet. “Keep looking at me, baby, when you fuck me. Yes?” 

 

Keith whimpers. More tears spill, unheeded, unneeded. It’s hot inside Shiro, it’s hot underneath that calm, beautiful gaze. No longer Keith sees the clone’s burning gaze, hears those growled words. It’s just Shiro, his loving, kind, strong Shiro. 

 

“Oh, fuck, Takashi - “ Keith is pulled into a kiss so loving that he can’t keep it back anymore. With one last desperate twitch of his hips, he spills into his condom. “It’s… it’s good to be here. With you.” It’s murmured against Shiro’s neck. He flops down on his love, squeezes his big, warm hand. 

 

“Indeed,” purrs Shiro, nosing Keith’s hair. Keith’s cock is softening so Keith pulls out, pulls off the condom, cleans himself and flops right back down. 

“I’m not too heavy, right?” Their fingers find each other again, intertwining. As they belong.

“Never.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> and then they proceed to fuck in every imaginable way and kept drowning in each other because they never want to let go.
> 
> come scream at me about sheith on [tumblr.](aarnivalkeaa.tumblr.com) but only if you're nice. discourse and bullshit won't be tolerated.


End file.
